


Alan in Wonderland

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Series: The Lobster Quadrille [2]
Category: CP Coulter's Dalton - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a fifteen-year-old boy got an email.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alan in Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tearsofsunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearsofsunshine/gifts).



> Alright, I know that the epilogue for Wonder isn't up yet. My darling beta has real life to deal with, too.  
> This only has wee tiny spoilers for that, so I'm posting it anyway.  
> This story is dedicated to my dear, darling Zoleykat teammates. I love you!

Once upon a time, a fifteen-year-old boy got an email.

 

_Alan Houston,_

_Hello. I know this is going to sound mad, but I know your brother._

_Dwight Houston was a dear friend of mine back home. We lived far, far away, and he spoke of you often. He always wondered what happened to you after he ended up with us. So when I left, I swore to him that I’d track you down._

_Thank Alice you’re still looking, too. It’s a lot easier to find the family of a lost person when they haven’t given up._

-       _Rachel Knight_

 

Dwight went missing when Alan was seven. He’d been 13.

Alan had always been convinced that he wasn’t dead; he _wasn’t dead_. So as soon as he’d been old enough to look, Alan started searching. Dwight had to be out there somewhere.

He’d had a presence on the internet for years, hoping desperately that someday someone would find him.

(Or, maybe, that someday _Dwight_ would contact him.)

And now that there’d finally been a change, he wasn’t likely to ignore it.

\--

“Uh, hi? Is this working?”

Alan laughed. The girl – she seemed maybe two or three years older than him on the outside – was leaning very close to her camera. “Yeah, it’s fine. But back up, all I can see is your eye.”

“Oh!” she said, jumping back. “Hello.” She gave him a little wave.

“So,” said Alan. “You’re Rachel.”

“And you’re Alan.”

“I’m really glad you’re not, like, some weirdo old guy,” Alan admitted. “All of my friends from school said you would be.”

Rachel laughed, and Alan knew right away that he wanted to make her laugh again. She looked like someone who didn’t laugh quite enough. “Kurt had similar worries, I admit. But that’s why we’re doing this, right? So we aren’t strangers anymore.”

“Where are you from?” Alan asked. “I can’t place your accent.”

“Well, that’s part of how I know your brother, actually,” said Rachel, half-smiling. “Are you willing to believe a really mad story?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“The story.”

Rachel’s smile widened to a proper grin. “Well, it starts in _Wonderland_ , of all places…”

\--

Alan was, like, eighty percent sure that that girl was Rachel.

Seventy-six.

He tapped her on the shoulder.

“Are you Rachel Knight?”

The girl spun around. “Alan!”

He sighed, relieved. “Yeah. Rachel?”

“Yeah!” Rachel replied. “Well, okay, actually Chelsea. Your brother knows me as Chelsea.”

“Why’d you say your name was Rachel, huh?”

“Cause that’s my Here name,” said Chelsea, fussing with the end of her braid. “It’s complicated. I’ll tell you about it later. I  _can’t_  believe I found you.”

He took the handle of her suitcase and started to lead her toward the car. “Tell me everything about Dwight.”

“Well, when I met him, he looked a lot like you do now,” Rachel – no, _Chelsea_ – answered. “Maybe a little shorter, but it’s hard to know, you know? I was nine.”

Alan laughed, but stopped fairly abruptly as a thought occurred to him. “Is he – I mean, did he ever mention me?”

“All the time,” Chelsea said. She patted his shoulder. “Seriously, _all the time_. You were his favourite topic. Our breaks were filled with ‘ _I bet he’s so tall now’_ and ‘ _do you think he’s alright, Fishy?’_ ”

“Fishy?” repeated Alan, tipping his head to one side quizzically.

“Oh, that’s me. I told you about the Rebellion when we talked a few weeks ago, yeah?” She paused, and Alan nodded. “Well, most of us Otherworlders didn’t have codenames, but Dwight and my  - my best friend and I did, ‘cause we looked after the others. I was Fishy, ‘Cella was Froggy.”

“And Dwight?” Alan prompted eagerly.

“The White Knight,” answered Chelsea, grinning. “Appropriate, too. He was always running about, searching for Flowers. Trying to protect _everyone_.”

Alan smiled. “He sounds like he’d have been a good big brother.”

Chelsea gave him a one-armed hug. “He is.”

\--

“Come on,” Alan said, tugging Chelsea along behind him. “You’re going to love this.”

“It looks dizzying,” commented Chelsea.

“It is. But it’s worth it, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”

With that, he pulled her into the queue.

“I’ve seen this movie,” Chelsea said, looking around. “Kurt made me watch it when we got here. It’s not particularly accurate.”

Alan laughed. “It’s not supposed to be _accurate_ , Chels. Just fun.”  He nodded toward the ride. “You pick one.”

“Er, how about the purple one,” said Chelsea.

“Purple teacup it is!” Alan exclaimed. As they sat down, he added, “After this, we’re finding Alice and the Mad Hatter. I need a picture of you with them.”

“Oh, alright. Now, how do we –“ she waved her hand in a little circle, to indicate spinning.

Alan started to turn the wheel at the centre of their teacup. “Like this!”

“Oh my,” Chelsea said, and then enthusiastically joined in.

\--

The school year started slowly, as school years tend to do.

Alan’s saving grace was Chelsea, with whom he kept up regular contact for the sake of his sanity. Sometimes being surrounded only with teenage boys was a bit trying, especially when the boys in question were as wild as the residents of Windsor house.

“Alan!” shouted James, Alan’s roommate Zach’s best friend. “Your phone’s ringing! Who’s Chelsea? Should I answer it?”

“No you should not!” Alan called back, leaping over a couch and running toward his room. “I’m on my way!”

He skidded into the room and held his hand out for the phone. James tossed it to him, his eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Chels,” Alan greeted, ignoring the curious looks from James and Zach.

“Hi, Alan,” replied Chelsea. “Why do you sound out of breath?”

“I, uh, just got back from class. Ran across campus, you know,” Alan lied.

Zach mouthed ‘ _girlfriend?’_ and Alan shook his head, wide-eyed.

“I’ll pretend I believe you, then,” Chelsea said. “Anyway, I was just wondering if you’re staying at school over Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, I am. Why?” Alan said, waving a hand at James and Zach, both of whom were trying to speak to him.

“Well, Kurt’s parents are from Ohio, a few hours away from your school, and I thought if you were going to be there, it might be nice to stop by and visit you before we head back here after the holiday,” answered Chelsea.

“Oh! Uh, that’d be nice.”

“What would be nice?” James asked loudly.

“What was that?” asked Chelsea.

“Nothing,” Alan answered.

Chelsea giggled. “Alright then. Well, we’ll probably make it up to you that Saturday, but I’ll call you if that changes.”

“Sweet. I’m looking forward to it,” said Alan.

“Me too. See you then!”

“Bye.”

Alan hung up and tucked his phone into his pocket.

“What was _that_?” asked Zach.

“Do you have a _date_?” added James. “ _You_?”

Alan shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Chel’s just a friend. She’s going to be in the area around Thanksgiving, so we’re gonna meet up. No big deal.”

“Sure,” said Zach. “ _Sure_.”

\--

Alan could’ve sworn he heard a knock at the door.

Since he was expecting a guest, he decided it was in his best interest to investigate.

This turned out to be a good decision, because it meant he got to the common room just in time to catch a familiar voice saying “ – for Alan Houston?”

“Are you sure?” replied one of the seniors, blatantly staring at Chelsea.

Alan didn’t give Chelsea a chance to respond to that. “Chels!”

For her part, Chelsea seemed glad to move past the (rather distasteful, if truth be told) senior in question, running forward with a wide smile on her face. “Alan! Hi!”

“You look very nice today,” Alan observed when she’d released him from her rib-crushing hug.

“Thanks,” said Chelsea, spinning around on her heels to show off her knee-length blue dress. “I should; Kurt dressed me.”

Alan laughed; he’d been told a fair few stories about her roommate’s fashion-based exploits. “Well it certainly paid off.”

“We went ‘Black Friday’ shopping yesterday,” Chelsea said in a low voice, looking horrified. “It was terrifying. He woke me up at three and I think I watched a woman bludgeon someone with a toy telephone.”

“That sounds… wow,” replied Alan.

Chelsea nodded. “Exactly.”

“So,” said Alan, deciding that the time was right for a change in subject, “we had plans?”

“Plans!” repeated Chelsea, “Right!”

\--

The first time Alan visited Chelsea in New York was remarkably uneventful.

In fact it wasn’t until at least the seventh time that Alan and Chelsea had visited back and forth that things got particularly interesting.

See, it was on a visit to New York about two years into their friendship that Alan finally got a glimpse of Wonderland for himself.

“ _Well_ ,” said Alan after they’d run out of the apartment, “that was –“

“Tense?” suggested Chelsea. “Weird?”

“A bit.”

“You don’t know the _half_ of it, lovey,” Chelsea said. “Those two – they _were_ something, back when Alice and I were on the other side of the Glass. I’m not sure exactly what happened, but Kurt left in a fair hurry.”

“And it’s been three years since they’ve seen each other,” Alan said. “So now they’re…?”

“Hell if I know,” replied Chelsea, shrugging. “But I’ll tell you one thing: Kurt and Bunny being on good terms again’ll mean that you can finally see your brother. For real. And I’d very much like to witness that, thanks.”

“You’ll be more than welcome,” Alan said. “But I think it’ll have to wait. You said time is funny there, right?”

“It is,” Chelsea confirmed.

“Well then I really shouldn’t risk going and getting distracted until summer,” Alan told her reasonably. “I’m a senior, after all. I have to be responsible.”

Chelsea sighed dramatically. “Alas, I’ve yet again been cursed with a best friend with ridiculously reasonable priorities.”

Alan elbowed her. “Well somebody’s got to.”

“Somebody indeed,” agreed Chelsea.

\--

“Hey, Al!” Zach called from James’s room, across the hall. “You got a date for prom yet?”

“Yes, I do,” Alan yelled back.

“ _Cheeeeeelsea?”_

“Shut up.”

\--

“Alice, I take it,” Alan observed. Prom’s theme was Wonderland this year, and Dalton Academy was notorious for taking dance themes ridiculously seriously. Fortunately, it seemed that Chelsea had embraced the theme with all of her usual enthusiasm.

“Period appropriate, too,” replied Chelsea, swishing the skirt around. “To the story, I mean. It’s hardly the fashion in Wonderland.”

“Is that a fish in your hair?” asked Alan, eyeing the pin holding up her neat hairdo.

Chelsea smiled. “Kurt thinks he’s funny.”

“I think so, too,” Alan said.

“Yes, well,” said Chelsea, “don’t tell _him_.”

Alan laughed. “Come on, Chels, we’re late.”

“Are we really, or are you just in character?” asked Chelsea.

“A little of both,” admitted Alan. He offered her his arm. “Won’t Kurt want pictures?”

“He will,” Chelsea agreed. “He’ll want to show off when we get home in June. You’re still coming with us for that trip, right?”

“That’s the plan,” Alan said. “I’m still trying to figure out how to ask my mother, but I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

Chelsea gave him a half-smile. “Let’s get going, then.”

\--

“You’re nervous.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chelsea brushed Alan’s bangs away from his eyes. “It’s alright, you know. It’s been ten years for him, too.”

“I just – what if –“

“Alan Houston,” Chelsea said firmly, her hands on his shoulders, “Dwight is going to _love_ you. He already does, I mean, you’re his brother. But he’ll love you more.”

Alan sighed. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” said Chelsea. She leaned up and bumped the tip of her nose against his, then rocked backward on her feet, smiling. “This is going to be great.”

She grabbed his hand, sliding her fingers between his, and dragged him into the living room. “Now, are you ready?”

“Uh –“

“Excellent!” She jumped up onto the coffee table and reached out for the mirror. “Let’s go!”

\--

The big room on the other side of the glass was _loud_.

Alan figured out quickly that this was because it was currently holding twelve or thirteen boisterous children, all suddenly clamouring for his companion’s attention.

“Oh my,” said Chelsea, “you’ve all gotten so tall! I hardly recognise you!”

“I take it these are your sprouts, then?” Alan guessed.

“Correct,” replied Chelsea. She pointed around, naming each, pausing occasionally for comments like, “Sweet Alice, Alphonse Smythe, you must be taller than I am now!” and “Oh, Cassie, you’ve grown so much!”

And then, kneeling next to five-year-old Cas, she said, “Now, you’ve all been taking very good care of Dwight for me, right?” There were nods and sounds of agreement all around. “Good. Well, I’ve brought him a surprise. Would you like to help me surprise him?”

“Yes!” chorused the children.

Chelsea held a hand out to Alan, who hesitantly approached the crowd of children. “This is my friend Alan. He’s Dwight’s baby brother.”

“Hey,” interrupted Alan.

“Now, you’ve got to make sure that Alan can’t be seen from the door. Can you do that?”

The kids swarmed around Alan, turning him around so his back was to the entrance to the room just as the door opened.

The way they’d oriented him, Alan couldn’t see who’d entered the room, but he _could_ see the way Chelsea’s face lit up.

“Dwight!” she exclaimed, running out of Alan’s range of vision. Suddenly Alan’s heart was racing from nerves all over again. After ten years of separation, six years of looking, he was finally standing in the same room as his big brother again.

“Don’t turn around,” said the boy that Chelsea had identified as Alphonse. He put his hands on Alan’s shoulders, stopping him from twisting around unconsciously. “She’ll call for you. Don’t ruin her surprise.”

“You’re wearing a dress,” a male voice observed, and that _had_ to be Dwight. He didn’t sound anything like he did in Alan’s memories, but he’d been 13 when they separated.

Chelsea laughed. “Gold star for observation, Mr Houston.”

“I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

“That’s because Charlie said dresses were impractical for Rebelling, and I only ever got hand-me-downs from the boys of Forest Base, all of whom were _Rebels_. Now I actually own clothes.”

“Well you look nice.”

“That’s all you had to say.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Then Chelsea mumbled something too quietly for Alan to understand, and Dwight replied, “You too, Fishy.”

“Now! I’ve brought you a surprise,” Chelsea announced. “Close your eyes.”

And then Alan was being dragged away from the children, manhandled into turning around, and then he was staring at his big brother for the first time in a decade.

“Alright. Thomas Dwight Houston, open your eyes,” said Chelsea. Dwight did, and then he glanced from Alan to Chelsea, half a question in his eyes. She smiled and squeezed Alan’s hand. “Dwight, meet Alan. Alan –“

“Alan?” said Dwight, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

Alan nodded. “Hey. Long time, no see.”

Chelsea leaned over on her right foot and kissed Dwight on the cheek. “I’m gonna go play with the kiddies. You two have fun catching up; I’ll see you at dinner.”

And with that, she was gone.

Dwight and Alan stood in stunned silence for at least a minute after Chelsea left.

“Do you want a tour? I can show you around,” Dwight said eventually.

“That’d be cool,” replied Alan, grateful for a conversation starter. “Chelsea’s told me a lot about Wonderland. And, uh, about you.”

They started to walk. “Have you and Chelsea known each other long?”

Alan shrugged. “’Bout two years or so?”

“It’s just, she never – she didn’t _tell_ me…” Dwight trailed off. “She said she’d look for you, when she left. But even after Rabbit and Alice started talking again, she never mentioned…”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Alan said, a little disappointed by his brother’s reaction.

Dwight smiled. “Well she certainly got me.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s good to see you, really. I’m just shocked, you know?”

Alan nodded. “Yeah, I can’t fault you.”

“You’re so tall,” Dwight observed. “And your voice – you know, I’ve spent ten years wondering what happened to you, and never once did I stop to think about what I’d do if I actually saw you again.”

“No kidding,” said Alan, half-laughing. “How about this: tell me everything. What you’ve been up to, what life is like here, _everything_. And I’ll tell you about home.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

\--

“Hello, darlings. You two look like you’re getting on pretty well.”

Alan grinned. “Yeah. But I’m not sure I believe all of his stories. Did Evan and Ethan really knock you off a roof?”

“No,” said Chelsea. “Well, not me. It was ‘Cella, and an accident, and your brother was _very_ heroic.”

“I told you,” Dwight said, pointing his fork at Alan.

Alan laughed. “Alright, alright. But I can’t just accept _all_ of your stories as fact. This place is mad, sure, but it’s only _so_ mad.”

A little hand tugged at the back of Alan’s shirt. He twisted in his chair, finding himself nearly nose-to-nose with the littlest of Dwight and Chelsea’s sprouts.

“You’re for real Dwight’s brother?” the little boy asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Alan replied, smiling.

“Are you gonna take him away?” Cassie said quickly.

“Oh, no,” said Alan, glancing at Dwight. “This is his home now. But I would rather like to visit every once in a while. Would you mind that?”

Instead of answering, Cassie threw his arms around Alan, startling him.

Dwight grinned at Alan. “Welcome to Wonderland."


End file.
